


they were nemeses (oh my god they were nemeses!!)

by OnyxSphynx



Series: newmann one-shots [59]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash, high-key modeled after smallville lol, or: the au where they're basically clex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-23 19:09:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18708196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyxSphynx/pseuds/OnyxSphynx
Summary: Hermann prefers the termnemesesto describe their relationship.Geiszler, and the media, feel otherwise.





	they were nemeses (oh my god they were nemeses!!)

**Author's Note:**

> anon asked: "What about this prompt "I’m a superhero and you’re a supervillain and I saw you visiting kids at the children’s hospital and letting them act like they defeated you and now it’s really hard to punch you in the face"?"

Hermann’s laying on the hospital bed, scowling at the ceiling. His abdomen is sporting a large gash, one sustained during one of his…extracurricular activities that he’d thought he’s bound properly. Apparently not, because partway through a lecture, he’d had a bout of dizziness and the next thing he knows, he’s waking up in a hospital.

The wound  _itches_ , and he only just resists the urge to scratch it, knowing that that’ll only make it worse. He sighs, closes his eyes, and lays back—

“You got me!” The exclamation startles him, and it’s followed by a high-pitched laugh. His eyes snap open, a scowl  automatically twisting across his features. He props himself up, ignoring the sting of pain—mild, as they’ve got him on decent painkillers—to see what the commotion is about.

The sight that meets him is—well, it’s startling, too say the least. Because there, a dozen or so beds down, is familiar figure. That unruly mop of hair, the flail of limbs, quick and agile, a flash of mischief in forest-green eyes set in a comely face, a cocky swagger in his step as he moves—

_Newton Geiszler_. Hermann scowls in the man’s direction. Oh, he mayn’t be doing anything dastardly— _at the moment_. But where Geiszler goes, trouble follows—trouble that, inevitably, requires intervention on the part of the Jaeger.

Still, though, while the man  _himself_ may be familiar—one doesn’t tussle with a person a few dozen times without learning to recognize them, and besides, Geiszler is the CEO of one of the largest companies in the world—the setting is  _not_. And—what  _is_ Geiszler doing here?

“Oh, no!” Geiszler exclaims, grounding Hermann in reality, and stumbles back, the back of his hand pressed against his forehead, “you’ve defeated me! Noooo! My evil plan will never come to pass! Darn you, Ser Eliot!”

Hermann blinks, wondering if his eyes are deceiving him—because, well, the person in the bed is a  _child_ , no more than seven or eight, and she’s  _laughing_ , eyes twinkling, and so is  _Geiszler_. And then he does something Hermann would never have expected from him—he hugs her.

The girl hugs back tightly.

Hermann lays back down, for which his body thanks him, and wonders if Hell has frozen over. Is Geiszler turning a new leaf, by some miracle, and finally learning human compassion? Or…is it something more sinister?

He resolves to look into it further as soon as he gets out.

* * *

Digging into Geiszler’s recent whereabouts reveals less than Hermann would have liked—either he’s actually cleaning his act up, or he’s just hiding his tracks exceptionally well. Hermann dearly wishes that it were the former, but, well, it’s  _Geiszler_. He knows which it’s more likely to be.

None of this, however, prepares him to coming home from his classes for the day and unlocking the door to his flat to find one Newton Geiszler sprawled languidly on his couch. Startled, he drops his keys—and his cane, the items clattering to the ground. After a moment, he retrieves them, and spits, “ _Geiszler_. What are you—what are you doing in my  _home?_ ”

The other pouts. “ _Geiszler?_ ” he complains, “c’mon, Herms, don’t be a  _stranger_ —it’s me, your pal. Newt.” He stretches, somehow finding a way to drape himself even further across the poor piece of furniture, and Hermann’s scowl intensifies.

“ _Geiszler_ ,” he says again, “ _what_ are you  _doing_ in my  _home?_ ”

“Mmm, wouldn’t  _you_ like to  _know_ , Hermann?” Geiszler teases, a slow smile replacing the previous pout. “Maybe I just wanted to  _see_ you.”

“I have office hours,” Hermann retorts.

“Alright, alright. Well—it’s come to my  _attention_ you’ve been doing some  _digging_ on yours  _truly_.”

Hermann strides over to the couch, draws himself to his full height, hoping that he looks at least slightly intimidating. “Here to kill me, then, for having found out something you don’t want anyone to know?” he asks.

That brings the other to a halt, his smile transforming into a frown. “Kill you—? Hermann, I’ve never killed anyone!”

“Tell that to the participants of your various programs,” Hermann says sharply.

Geiszler sucks in a breath, and when he speaks, Hermann can hear what might be called a tinge of sorrow— _if_ Geiszler where able to feel such an emotion. “They signed waivers,” he says quietly, “and as tragic as their deaths were, they  _were_ willing participants.”

“Oh, I’m  _sure_ they were,” Hermann says, “and I’m sure the threats made against them and their families had nothing to do with it.”

A muscle twitches on Geiszler’s jaw. “That,” he says slowly, “was an unfortunate misunderstanding.”

“Whatever you say,” replies Hermann.

The other lets out a huff. “ _God_ , why are you  _like_ this?” he complains, “fucking—look, dude, I’m—sorry, okay? I get that you don’t like me—”

“You had a room dedicated to me! Full of photographs and news clippings!” Hermann exclaims. “I thought you were my friend! But no—you were just another person who wanted to figure out who I was and—and  _capture and experiment on me!_ You’re no better than my  _father_ , Newton  _Geiszler_.”

“You—” Geiszler cuts himself off, rising and shoving past Hermann. “Fuck  _you_ ,” he hisses, and slams the door behind him as he leaves, shoulders tense.

* * *

“Wait,” Vanessa says the next day over lunch in Hermann’s office, “he did— _what?_ You’re telling me that you—you—” she pauses, stares at him wordlessly for a moment, and then continues, slightly strangled, “you came back to find  _Newton Geiszler_ in your flat and you didn’t—call the police?”

Hermann takes another bite of his sandwich, trying to put off answering for as long as possible, but, inevitably, has to swallow; evenly, he says, “I…was too startled.”

Vanessa raises a brow. “ _Sure_ ,” she drawls, “that’s  _totally_ what it was.”

“If you’re trying to imply something, I don’t appreciate it,” Hermann says stiffly, “whatever we… _may_ have had in the past is a distant memory.”

“So distant that you didn’t call the cops on him when he broke into your apartment,” says the other drily. Hermann’s cheeks heat, and she smirks at him. “Hermann, I’ve known you since we were kids,” she points out, “I  _know_ you. And I know that you’re  _still_ pining after him.”

“I am  _not!_ ” Hermann protests hotly, “I just have…lingering sentimentalities.”

Vanessa’s smirk widens.

Hermann sighs. “I hate you,” he says, but it lacks any weight, and they both know it.

* * *

It is, however, slightly troubling when a few months later, Hermann’s called upon to deal with one of Geiszler’s plots, and—

“A horde of killer robots?” he shouts, “really? Did you learn nothing from last time?”

Geiszler, perched atop a huge, vaguely raptor-shaped robot—the dinosaur kind, sadly, a la  _Jurassic Park_ , no the bird—ignores him and drives the robot forward, demolishing a building in the process, and Hermann dives to the side, barely avoiding getting crushed beneath a piece of the debris. He scowls, switching the suit’s thrusters on with a thought, and rockets upwards, towards the genius, who’s grinning, wild-eyed, and—yes, he  _is_ cackling maniacally.

Hermann resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Geiszler finally notices him. “Jaeger!” he exclaims, “finally! I thought you’d forgotten about little old me—” and there, he’s cut off, because Hermann catches him off-guard, rocketing forward and grabs him.

Without its pilot, the robot halts mid-motion. Hermann takes a second to hope that it doesn’t topple over, and alights upon the ground, slamming the shorter man up against a wall, forearm pressed against Geiszler’s throat just enough to impede his breathing. “ _What_  the  _hell are you up to,_ Geiszler?” Hermann snarls. “Luring me into a miniature reconstruction of Boston—”

“Maybe I just got bored and wanted attention, Jaeger,” Geiszler says petulantly, “and it’s not  _actually_ Boston, so no one got hurt and I didn’t destroy any actual buildings—”

“You  _held my ca hostage to force me to follow you!_ ” Hermann snaps, “and you incited mass panic when you disappeared!”

Geiszler approximates a shrug, as much as he can in his current position, and winces when Hermann presses the arm harder against his throat. “ _Ow_ ,” Geiszler complains, and Hermann loosens his hold slightly, which is—

Geiszler lunges for his jugular—literally—teeth bared, and Hermann snaps back, even though Geiszler can’t get at it through the armour. Geiszler drags him down, snarling, and, bizarrely, laughing.

* * *

> **_FORBIDDEN ROMANCE: ARE JAEGER AND GEISZLER SECRETLY DATING?_ **
> 
> **_Dear readers, we have exciting news! For almost a decade, our city’s most recognizable hero, Jaeger, has kept civilians safe from a variety of threats. His rivalry with Doctor Newton Geiszler, CEO of Kaiju Tech, is well known—the two are vocal enemies. But what if it’s just an act?_ **
> 
> **_We have it from anonymous sources that recently, Jaeger has taken pains not to give the genius more than a few scratches when they tumble—guilty consciousness? Or…something else entirely?_ **
> 
> **_Something…more secret?_ **
> 
> **_More_ ** **romantic?**
> 
> **_Could it be that the infamous Doctor Geiszler has finally found love—and with his greatest ‘rival’?_ **
> 
> **_Well—we wish them the  best!_ **

* * *

“Aww,” Geiszler croons the next time they run into each other while Hermann’s on the job, “you could have at least bought me a  _drink_ first.”

Hermann gives him a startled look, and practically squeaks, “ _What?_ ”

The smile on Geiszler’s face grows. “Next week, nine o’clock at the  _Shatterdome?_ ” he proposes, and Hermann splutters for a moment before he drags Geiszler off of the ground, cuffing his hands behind his back.

_(Carefully.)_


End file.
